


Burn-scarred arms and a quirking smile

by GateofMemory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Charlie Weasley, Canon Related, Canonical Character Death, Charlie Weasley appreciation fic, F/M, Molly muses about her children, No Dialogue, Other, maybe/probably Aromantic too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24757627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateofMemory/pseuds/GateofMemory
Summary: Charlie was there.  Charlie, her quiet child. It figured, Molly mused, that dragon-loving Charlie of all her brood would understand the concept of an “empty nest.”Molly Weasley's point of view throughout the books, raising her seven very different children and the times she worried about each of them, as well as the strays they brought home.  But Molly didn't need to worry about Charlie.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Burn-scarred arms and a quirking smile

**Author's Note:**

> We get so few chapters throughout the books that include Charlie, and I think he's a fascinating character study. Is he a wild and reckless dragon keeper who was glad to get out of the chaotic Burrow? Or is he a strong, quiet, loving brother and son who calms his siblings down like hatchlings?  
> I love the HP world, but I condemn JK Rowling's transphobic comments. I support the LGBTQIA+ community with no exclusions. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Molly didn’t worry about Charlie.

Bill had been wide-eyed and enthusiastic as a child, creating worlds in his own mind and pestering Arthur about the inner workings of the Ministry, or writing scrawling lists of questions for Xenophilius about codes and questionably-existent creatures. When he came home from his fifth year at Hogwarts with a poorly-hidden piercing and stories of his friend’s father’s job as a curse breaker, Molly sighed and resigned herself. At least Bill knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to seek it out, from his prefect badge to OWLs to his dream job. Percy was also ambitious, but was high-strung and vulnerable from the time he could walk and put words together. Molly changed mothering tactics and slowed her bustling enough that this skinny little boy could cling to her robes and toddle along everywhere she went. As he grew, she quietly encouraged and supported as he struggled with his battling ambitions and insecurities, and of all her boys she was secretly the proudest of his prefect badge. And then came Fred and George. For all that Percy was, well, not frail exactly, but cautious, the twins had an air of fiendish confidence and a dangerously optimistic view of their own perceived immortality. Molly eventually gave up any semblance of authority and focused on damage control, reassuring Arthur (and herself) that her brothers had been similarly mischievous, though not quite at the same level, and as long as the twins had each other neither would actually let the other one blow himself up. Ronald struggled, she knew, growing up in the shadow of overachieving brothers, especially overlapping at Hogwarts with a combination of the studious, serious Percy and the chaos that was Fred-and-George. But because Ron had a heart the size of an elephant’s, he befriended lonely, malnourished, fame-stricken Harry Potter and the two boys somehow attached themselves to the powerhouse of Hermione. And Molly worried and fussed over the trio who kept getting into trouble, but she knew that they, like Fred and George, were strong as long as they were together. Stupid as well, maybe, but strong. 

And then. Then there was Ginny. As much a rebel as Bill, as smart as Percy, as funny and clever as Fred and George, and as brave as Ron. Molly learned that there was no way to temper Ginny’s spitfire, and threw herself wholeheartedly into guiding it as well as possible. As soon as she was the only child in the house, Ginny was bored and chomping at the bit to get out and go to Hogwarts. With Bill in the thick of curse breaking, Percy Prefect at Hogwarts, Fred and George’s complete disregard for upcoming OWL’s, and Ron’s monthly illicit activities, the year Ginny was 10 Molly spent overwhelmed and facilitating playdates with Luna Lovegood, hours-long hikes through the moors trying to keep up with the girls, and throwing balls into the air for Ginny to tear after on her little broom. And then suddenly, Molly and Arthur were in Ministry cars on September 1st, and loading Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione onto the Hogwarts Express. The train pulled away from the Platform. Arthur stood with her silently watching where it had disappeared down the tracks for a long time. Then she kissed him and sent him to the Ministry with the drivers. And then she apparated home, alone. 

And Charlie was there, waiting for her. Charlie, who had gone to Hogwarts and gently coaxed Bill’s focus from imagined worlds to school work, and became seeker with a nonchalant confidence. Who opened his prefect letter silently but with a secret smile and pinned his new badge to Percy's sweater for the summer. Who patiently corralled Fred and George, taught Ron to fly on a rickety old broom, and twirled Ginny in his arms whenever he was home on holiday.  
Charlie, her quiet child. He was sitting on the lopsided granite slab by the front door, feeding a contented chicken with an outstretched hand and that little quirking smile. Molly settled herself on the warm stone step beside her second child and he leaned up against her. It figured, Molly mused, that dragon-loving Charlie of all her brood would understand the concept of an “empty nest.”

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

It was Ginny’s first year and there was the debacle with the diary, and Ginny’s brothers rallied in their worry for her - Bill sent an owl with a letter and a charmed bracelet for nightmares, Fred and George’s pranks became pure chaos and needed stronger spells to counteract, Ron needed constant reassurance and a gentle touch as he had seen the Chamber of Secrets first hand, and Percy, for a terrible but thankfully brief period, went silent. He had a girlfriend, and she had been one of the victims. Molly would have shaken apart with worry for her children and their trauma...but Charlie was waiting at the Burrow with strong, burn-scarred arms open for his little sister when she was released from the Hogwarts hospital wing, still crying and shaky and ashamed. He held her for what seemed like days, and maybe it was, while Arthur put out the literal fires behind the twins and Molly quieted Ron and Percy in turns.

It was Ginny’s second year when Sirius escaped from Azkaban and Molly and Arthur worried together because there was no way he wasn’t looking for Harry, and there was no way he wouldn’t end up with Ron as well. At least, Molly thought wryly, it was so far only one child at a time to worry about. And at least the nest didn’t feel quite so empty that year - Charlie flooed home when he could, even if only for a bowl of soup and game of chess with Arthur. 

It was Ginny’s third year, and the Triwizard tournament happened. Bill came back from Egypt and Molly watched him fall in love with Fleur, but it was Harry this year, who was the child she worried about. Fred and George’s jokeshop dreams were something she sometimes despaired over when she had a free moment, and Ginny got her period and Molly helped her navigate hormones with owl deliveries of little notes and ginger biscuits and chocolate bars. In between tournament events, Molly happily lent an ear and what words of wisdom she could to Percy, accomplishing so much but still with that grating uncertainty, and to Bill, listening with a smile as both boys slipped in the occasional smitten sigh over Penelope and Fleur, respectively. With her final few minutes of free time, Molly tried her best to not notice Charlie grinning, when she watched him wrestle the four terrifying dragons and act as interpreter when he needed to, between the competitors, the heads of schools, and his co-wranglers who had come from Romania with him. During a quiet dinner back at the Burrow, Arthur wondered aloud when Charlie had learned so many languages and both parents spared a moment considering their quiet, smart, second boy.

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

And then. Then You-Know-Who came back. Dolores Umbridge taught at Hogwarts. The Order of the Phoenix was reorganized, and Molly worried about all her children. She worried about Bill, no longer a baby on his uncles’ knees during meetings, but on the front lines now. Percy, using Ministry work to cope and pushing the family away. Fred and George, restless and reckless at Hogwarts, until Dumbledore showed up at an Order meeting and handed her a letter with official notification of their self-expulsion, eyes twinkling. She worried about Ron and Ginny, Harry and Hermione and their rebellion at Hogwarts that she agonized over and then consciously turned a blind eye to, secretly proud and absolutely certain that nothing she said would discourage them. And, for the first time in years, she worried about Arthur. Her husband, bitten and bleeding out and in St. Mungo’s. She worried about their wonderful, loving, brave brood of children, clustered around the hospital bed and clinging, scared, to their father who they had almost lost. She worried about Harry and the weight on his shoulders, dealing with a prophecy and Umbridge and You-Know-Who and also, he admitted quietly and hopelessly to her as they washed dishes, a girl and the confusion that brought. She worried about Hermione as a muggle-born, her family unaware of the war at all. She even worried about Sirius and Remus, who had already lost their families-in-all-but-blood in the last war and who faced this new one terrified but determined and trying their best to fill the role Harry desperately needed them to. She worried about Tonks, hopelessly falling for someone she couldn’t have. She worried about Fleur, who had the person she wanted but struggled to fit into the family, trying a little too hard.

She didn’t worry about Charlie. 

It was Ginny’s fifth year and the war continued, though the Order was slightly subdued. Molly worried about Harry and the pressure Dumbledore was putting on his thin shoulders. She didn’t worry about Hermione, who still held Harry and Ron together with a fierce determination. She did worry about Percy, and cried more than once about her son who was so anxious and yet held himself apart from the support of his family. But there were moments she was able to smile and laugh - when Fred and George somehow opened a successful joke shop to rival even Zonko’s, and when Ginny teased Ron about Lavender Brown and he, pink-cheeked, snapped back about Dean Thomas. And then, something shifted. It reminded her of the first war, when James and Lily, Frank and Alice, Andromeda and Ted got married in beautiful, tender, frightened ceremonies, determined to have that for at least as long as they could hold out on the front lines. Arthur sat beside her as Bill, still somehow wide-eyed and confident, showed them the ring he had for Fleur and asked if they thought she would say yes. The next week, Ginny borrowed Hedwig and sent her from Hogwarts to say she had won the quidditch cup, needed a present for Luna’s birthday, oh and had finally snogged Harry. Molly laughed and Arthur blushed to the tips of his Weasley ears when she shared the letter, a beaming smile on both of their faces.  
She worried about Bill, mauled by Greyback. But then something else shifted, and Fleur was no longer an outsider trying to fit in, and Molly knew that she wouldn’t have to worry about Bill as much.

She didn’t worry about Charlie. 

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

She did wonder about him, sometimes, when she saw Bill and Fleur sharing looks, when she heard Fred and George talk about Angelina and muggles who enjoyed their tricks, when she shook her head at poor Hermione’s proud face and angry set jaw as Ron mumbled about Lavender, when she saw how right Ginny and Harry were for each other, when she and Arthur clung together alone in their quiet Burrow, and when she watched the shell Remus had become after Sirius’s death slowly come back to life when Tonks laid her heart bare to him in the hospital wing.

Charlie was at the wedding and he kissed Fleur’s cheeks, he stood by Bill as his best man and gave him a quirking little smile, he sat with an ankle curled around Fred’s and a hand on George’s neck while he admired the hole of George’s ear and he listened to Fred explain gleefully about pygmy puffs. He ruffled Harry/Barney’s hair, and complimented Hermione’s gown and slung his arm around Ron’s shoulders. He picked Ginny up and twirled her in her golden dress as if she was still five, and not two inches taller than him in her heels. Charlie leaned into Arthur’s side and talked about Percy, and he danced with Molly. Molly didn’t worry about Charlie. 

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

It was Ginny’s sixth year, and once again there was only one Weasley at Hogwarts. The last time any of Molly's brood had gone to school alone, it had been Bill, a wide-eyed eleven year old boy who create imaginary worlds and was the first of six sons. Now it was Ginny, her only daughter, a fierce sixteen year old whose owls came few and far between and always told the same hardscrabble stories of rebellion. Molly worried about her, of course she did, but with a fiery edge of pride. Molly worried about Bill, though less now that he and Fleur were married, because their love gave them something tangible to fight for. Molly worried about Remus and Tonks, but trusted their bond as well, especially when Tonks flooed to the Burrow in a grinning tizzy clutching her rounding belly. Molly worried about Fred and George, and she felt a cold stab of fear when she looked at where George’s ear once was, but they too had each other and if that bond couldn’t be trusted to keep them safe then nothing could. Molly worried about Percy, because he was in the thick of the Ministry with seemingly no way out, but Arthur kept track of their distant son, and it was always a cold comfort to hear he was still at work and hadn’t been labeled a blood traitor yet. Molly worried about Ron, Harry, and Hermione, gone without a trace, and then Ron reappeared, and then he was gone again. Molly worried, but she knew that it was the youngest fighters in the first war, James and Lily, Alice and Frank, Sirius and Remus, who had turned the tide, and it would be again, so she asked no questions of Ron, and she trusted the three of them because there was nothing else to do. Charlie sent an owl home with a note that Death Eaters had tried to raid the sanctuary, but that he and the other keepers were on constant watch of the beasts, the nests, and each other. He was as safe as he could be. So Molly didn’t worry about Charlie.

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

There was a feline patronus who gave the call for battle at Hogwarts. So Molly grasped Arthur’s hand and they side-alonged to the Hog’s Head. And then...then Molly couldn’t worry about Fred anymore. She couldn’t worry about Remus or Tonks either, though she could spare a thought for baby Teddy. 

Molly worried about Ron, who had been through hell and back with Harry and Hermione and then lost his older brother. She worried about Ginny, who looked exhausted and pained from leading a rebellion at Hogwarts, who had been so strong all year and then lost her older brother. She worried about Percy who sobbed and clung to her and said if only he hadn’t distracted Fred with a stupid joke he would still have his younger brother...she worried about Bill, who had always felt responsible for every one of his siblings and took the loss of his younger brother quietly, in the arms of his wife. Molly worried about Arthur, because he felt the same pain that she did, and they all worried about George, who had watched as his other half died, laughing, in front of his eyes. 

Hermione was the one who found Charlie at the end of it all and brought him to the Great Hall. Charlie knelt by Fred’s body and brushed plaster dust from his hair, and then he kissed Fred’s cold temple and turned where he knelt to kiss George’s warm temple, and then he stood up.  
Charlie cajoled the gargoyles back to their perches, and spoke with the centaurs, and led the giants away. And then Charlie was gone, but Molly didn’t worry.

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

Charlie was at the funeral and he kissed his parents’ cheeks as they huddled together. Percy stood with his hands twisted in the hem of Molly’s robes, and Charlie kissed his shoulder and rubbed his back and tucked him farther towards their mum. He kissed Bill’s cheek and rubbed Fleur’s shoulder as she held him close. He ruffled Ron’s hair and kissed his head, and Hermione’s, as Ron clung to her. Molly watched as he hugged Harry and tugged Ginny out of his arms to enfold her in his own. Charlie kissed Ginny’s cheek and whispered to her and she pecked his with a watery smile, and then she reached for Harry again and Charlie turned to George. Charlie straddled the stone bench and pulled George to him, and George pressed his face into his older brother’s neck with the same awful, lost, silent grief that he wore like a mask. Charlie, quiet, strong, loving Charlie, held George through the whole funeral and after, then prised Percy from his parents and tucked him into place beside George before apparating away with a startling crack. And then. Then, Molly worried about Charlie. As she and Arthur made their rounds, gathering their remaining children together in the cemetery, she watched them all, Bill and Fleur, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Harry, George and Percy in the place where Fred always was. Arthur and her. And Charlie, alone, gone without a look. Hours later, Molly held out the portkey and her wonderful, brave, grieving children, biological and otherwise, put their hands to it and she brought them home. The Burrow, held up with Arthur’s magical supports and her protective spells, looking a little neglected from the week before, as the Weasleys prepared for battle and left the house without a second thought. She hadn’t been back except to collect everyone’s dress robes for the funeral, the family throwing themselves into clearing rubble at Hogwarts and refusing to return to their home and pretend normalcy when one of them never would again. The Burrow looked ramshackle as always in the darkening twilight...but there were flickers of light. One candle in every window, and two in the turret of Fred and George’s room.  
And there was Charlie, lighting one last candle on the lopsided granite slab, with sad eyes but a little quirking smile, raising his burn-scarred arms to embrace his mother, father, siblings, and friends. The sitting room and kitchen were set to rights, there was a small fire for comfort rather than warmth crackling in the wood stove, and there were eleven bowls of Fred’s favorite mushroom soup waiting at the table with a basket of sliced, buttered, toasted bread. Molly cried, and she didn’t worry about Charlie.

-*-* *- *-* -*--***

Bill and Fleur were parents. Hermione asked Ron to marry her. Percy brought Audrey home from the Ministry for Sunday roast. George and Angelina lived above the shop. Ginny and Harry began renovations on the house in Godric’s Hollow. Arthur made Molly smile. And then Percy moved into the second apartment above Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, and Ron and Hermione followed Ginny and Harry to Godric’s Hollow, and Arthur and Molly were alone again, and for the first time since Bill was born in the middle of the first war, Molly didn’t worry about her children.

Charlie flooed home when he could, for supper sometimes, or for chess with Arthur, and Molly taught him how to knit. On a cold January night, Molly unwrapped his frosty muffler and hung it by the potbellied stove and hovered for a moment, just looking at her boy as he gave Arthur an icy peck on the cheek, laughing and dodging out of his father’s teasing swipe. She wondered if there was a fetching Bulgarian witch who gave warm hugs in the dragon keepers’ huts. She wondered if there was a pretty Romanian wizard who gave cold kisses in the wilds of dragon reserves. She wondered if there ever would be. And she wondered if it mattered at all, as long as he was happy with his dragons and flooed home when he could, and kissed his parents and held his brothers and little sister with strong, burn-scarred arms. He gave her a little quirking smile.

Molly didn’t need to worry about Charlie.


End file.
